The long-lasting impact of clearing the plains

Some books are more enlightening than others, and I’ve read quite a few in these covid months. In recognition of the racial conflict we’re experiencing in North America, I would recommend one in particular: Clearing the Plains: Disease, Politics of Starvation, and the Loss of Aboriginal Life by James Daschuk.  

It’s an eye-opener. Not only does it provide a detailed history of first contact between Europeans and Indigenous peoples, it gets to the origins of our current conflicts. While it’s not Daschuk’s intention to place blame, the facts are laid bare. Our first prime minister actually said that emergency rations would be refused to families "until the Indians were on the verge of starvation, to reduce expense.” Along with malnutrition, disease and spoiled food would kill thousands of Indigenous people, just as settlers began to occupy the Canadian Prairies. 

When Indigenous leaders signed the treaties in the late 1800s, they knew any leverage they once had was gone. After Canada became a nation, the First Nations would begin their decline. And it had everything to do with the buffalo. 

The buffalo were a source of food, tools and life. The best parallel to our modern age is our dependency on oil and gas. Imagine how quickly anarchy would erupt if every oil well went dry tomorrow. 

For Indigenous peoples, the loss of the buffalo meant societal collapse, accompanied by disease and starvation. Fortunately, they had the treaties, or so they thought. Instead of offering the assistance needed to get through this transition, the government would oversee their near demise. 

No longer required for the lucrative fur trade of the early 1800s, the Indigenous population was now a burden rather than a source of profit. They were, to put it mildly, in the way. In the way of the railroad, in the way of land, in the way of European values. 

They needed to be put to the side. And so the reserve system began, where disease and hunger run rampant. In his book, Daschuk includes a picture of a large First Nations family who look relatively healthy and proud. In a few years, all of them had died due to malnutrition and disease.

I often wondered why treaties were so valued by Indigenous groups, when they left them with so little. But now I understand that they were then what they are today: the only legal guarantee of a better life. And up until quite recently, the government has been willfully ignorant of our side of the bargain. 

Those of us who ended up with the favourable interpretations of the treaties complain when these ancient agreements are brought up. Why do we still adhere to these artifacts, we ask? The same reason we still adhere to ancient laws like the Constitution, I suppose. Old documents like these still form the basis of our lawful society. 

Interpretations of our laws change, which is only natural, but it doesn’t mean we can throw them out. The treaties are much the same. 

As we approach Canada Day, over 150 years since Confederation and almost the same for the first numbered treaties, I sometimes wonder if the atrocities described would have been avoided if we were transported back to that time. We tend to look back at the past with pious eyes, as though we are a more enlightened bunch. 

As much as I want to say I would have been less indifferent than the early settlers or government of the day, I can’t say so in all honesty. Am I any less indifferent today? 

We view things through a societal lens, which typically takes crises to break; whether that be train blockades or street protests spurned by violations of treaty rights or police brutality – an unfortunate reality in both the U.S. and Canada.  

Then we grumble and complain that our world is being threatened.  

Rest assured, it was nothing like the experience of those 150 years ago.

An optimist's guide to the near future

All of us have been wondering if things will return to normal once the pandemic has passed. The scientific consensus is that we have another year, maybe two. What could possibly change in a year or two?  

Already things have changed, and I’m not sure they’ll ever go completely back to the way they were. They say it takes at least 18 days to create a new habit and 66 for it to become automatic. It’s been almost 90 days now since the lock-down, and I’d say our new habits are going to be hard to kick. 

Let’s start with technology. If we were addicted to technology before the pandemic, we’re going to be cyborgs by the time this is all over. As Jerry Seinfeld jokes in his new stand-up special, we don’t use our phones – our phones use us. That Uber ride was your phone hitching a ride on you to get where it needed to go. 

Technology has shown us we don’t need to actually be with people. Face-to-face time is so pre-pandemic. Now we have Zoom! Where we all talk at once as somewhat familiar faces flash across the screen. Zoom fatigue is a real condition, where people tire from viewing pixelated, delayed facial expressions. Why do you keep looking at me with that frozen-in-time grimace?

Perhaps it’s time to return to some old-fashioned technology like the telephone. As a teenager I used to spend hours on the phone, and never once did I come down with “phone fatigue.” But kids don’t even know how to use that anymore. On the rare occasion a phone call is warranted, I have to tell my 12-year-old to actually put the phone up to her ear. She looks at me curiously, as though I’ve asked her to put a banana to the side of her face.

At least at school, kids have to give up their screens for a portion of the day. If online learning were to continue, kids will lose out on all the intangibles of classroom learning. The raucous shouting for attention. The invisible sound of children falling behind. The teachers on the verge of chucking chalk at students (maybe this only happened when I went to school).

Then there’s the work-from-home revolution. 

When this all began, many of my co-workers expressed a difficult time working from home. There were kids. There were spouses. There were Internet connection and distraction issues. 

 Now we’ve become far too comfortable working in our pajamas. Even those with small kids are doing better – the kids have adjusted, and now surely play by themselves. The novelty of having parents home 24/7 can only last so long. 

Businesses are now looking at ways to maintain a permanent, partially remote workforce. This will give them greater flexibility in hiring talent and save on costs. American companies are already looking to Canadians for hire, as we are not only smarter but less costly. 

Lastly, we've kicked our addiction to travel. We all love to travel, but we know it harms the Earth, especially the flying. Commuting is not only bad for the air, but it's a waste of our time. Savings to municipalities and human health could be huge if even a small percentage of people continue to work remotely. 

Then we can continue to enjoy the extra time we have around home... with our family... our kids... our pets....

In this new world, the sky's the limit – within stringent boundaries, of course. 

Amidst pandemic, elderly gardeners shame us all

I read a “good news” article about an elderly couple from Great Britain who has the most magnificent backyard garden. (They’re in their 70s – yes, all you baby boomers, that's called elderly.)

With all this COVID-19 time on their hands, they’ve been planting trees left and right. They've created a jungle, albeit a rather orderly one. Their relatively small backyard has a remarkable resemblance to Vancouver Island’s Butchart Gardens. 

The elderly couple (they look quite feeble in the pictures) have spent almost every day working on the garden since the lock-down began. They order all their supplies online, trees included, and then weed to their hearts content. 

This article was intended to be a good news article during the pandemic, but I think it rather shames us all. I confess my own envy. Some people indeed have a knack for greenery, and I hate them for it. 

Having grown up on a farm, I have no idea how to beautify a small urban area. I only know efficiency; how to cover the most acres of grass (and whatever else is growing there) in the shortest period of time. On a riding mower that would decimate a small city plot, I spent two and half hours every Saturday just to keep the grass down to a reasonable length. My parents, who are now quite elderly (don’t tell them I said that), continue this thankless chore to this day. 

A couple times a year we would get out the whipper snipper to take out the long grass along the edge of bins and buildings, although come to think of it, I don’t think we even had that when I was young. I recall my dad giving me something that resembled a scythe, the same tool the Grim Reaper is known to carry with him; you know, in case the grass gets too high when he’s searching for lost souls. 

I remember whacking away at grass up to my waist, occasionally skimming the scalp of an unassuming cat while doing it. It was all fun and games until a cat lost an eye. 

So I never really learned the fine art of creating a small urban garden or maintaining an alluring, lush lawn. When my friend from town showed me how luxurious his dad’s lawn was compared to his neighbour’s, I would chuckle to myself. What difference does it make, so long as it’s somewhat green and growing? 

As it turns out, a huge difference. There's not a more competitive field in cities as the race for an immaculate front lawn. Start showing some brown patches, and you’ll never hear the end of it from your neighbour. Let your dandelions go, and you’ll be despised for generations.  

It’s a competitive field, and only the toughest survive. You've got to be out there monitoring it every day, applying herbicides, fertilizer and water. It’s tiring. 

When we first bought our house, we had no idea how much work it would take. The lawn looked so good, we thought it would last forever. 

How wrong we were. After a few years of neglect, our lawn took on a more native look – without the native plants, mind you – and I’ve been trying to revive it ever since. 

Now, to be perfectly honest, our neighbourhood tends to place less value on a perfect lawn than some others. This can be a good and bad thing.  

The bad part is I tend to have to make up for my neighbour’s neglect. When I spray for weeds, I end up spraying half the neighbourhood. There’s no sense just doing my lawn with the yellow-headed enemy so near. 

The good part is there’s less pressure on me. Our main competitor is the city park across the street, and they’ve got so many more issues to deal with. I can handle that, even with a lawn mower that has blades so dull I need to cut my lawn two times over. 

And as for our vegetable garden, we've given up on the back yard. The tree that was planted beside it sucks the life out of everything. Except the horse radish – the horse radish is lush. I must say, we can grow some mean horse radish. Can’t kill that stuff if you wanted to. 

Now we’ve resorted to sticking some vegetables in the front flower bed. Yes, the dill can look a little silly at times amidst the petunias, but we’ll take the practical benefits of fresh herbs in the summer. 

I am, after all, still a farm boy at heart. 

https://www.goodnewsnetwork.org/britains-best-gardening-couple-outdo-themselves-during-lockdown/ 

Books most useful on the shelf

As part of my COVID-19 house cleaning, I tasked myself with organizing a bookshelf. Yes, one bookshelf. How could one bookshelf be such a wreck? 

If it weren’t for the safety clip holding this lone bookshelf to the wall, it surely would have toppled over years ago. But thanks to my occupational health and safety awareness, it only took on a healthy lean.

Some of the books hadn’t been touched for over a decade. Probably around the time we had our first and only child. Reading, during this period of life, is relegated to after-hours, of which there are none. 

Ironically, many of the books had to do with child-rearing. “Help, I’m a Parent!” is a prominent title I’ve laughed at many times over, but have never actually opened. Then there are the ones about making your kid smart and successful. We were big fans of the Mozart Effect at one time, and still are. Who can argue that classical music makes us brilliant? 

Then there are the Learn to Speak Russian books, and my binder with language worksheets from when I was far more ambitious than I am today. There was a time when I could almost carry on a simple conversation with my wife... in Russian, that is. Now it’s just, “Da” and “Nyet” (yes... and no). 

That's a good segue into the books on marriage. The “Marriage Handbook” may have come in useful, after dusting it off and paging through it briefly. I wisely put it in the “save” pile. That’s the pile that gets put aside for another ten years before the next cleaning. 

There are some books that I’ve borrowed, and I feel guilty about. My friend from BC gave me a book two years ago, and it was really good, so it's morphed into my permanent collection. With our current travel restrictions, I’m not sure when he'll get it back. 

I have two very similar books on finances: “The Wealthy Barber” and “The Wealthy Barber Returns.” Back when I was an ambitious capitalist (as in a few months ago), these books were quite intriguing. Invest when you’re young! You’ll be a millionaire, cutting hair! Some good advice, but let’s not bet the farm on it. 

Then there’s my bright yellow bestseller, “Feeling Good” by David Burns. I hate to admit it, but I sometimes need books like this. The problem is, it’s 700 pages long. In this day and age, can we really expect someone to read through a 700-page book just to feel better? I’m sure the points are summed up on a website somewhere.

The same could be said for our massive French dictionary in our living room. Its sheer weight could crush a toe or do irreparable damage to the faux wood floor. But we have it, because sometimes (in rare cases) we actually might refer to it – or at least use it to press a leaf. Even my English dictionary from 1990 we still use, albeit for Scrabble games. That doesn't stop us, mind you, from looking up words online (a lot of new words have been invented since 1990, I'm sure).

Finally, I must mention the greatest book of them all: my Greek New Testament Bible. This is a book I'll probably never open again in my life. But it remains a testament (no pun intended) to my scholarly aspirations. Back when I had the determination and free time to spend hours learning an obsolete language. 

But I’ll still keep it, along with the others. They have an impact, just by being there, prominently perched on my showroom shelf. They say something about me.

I am educated. I strive for higher learning. I could have read all of these books, if I had wanted to.

In experts we trust (for now)

I watched with some fascination as an articulate Californian doctor explained how COVID-19 is overblown. He appeared to be holding his own press conference, perhaps in some hospital basement? It sounded like there were some reporters in the room. Maybe from the local online paper? 

But this video was clearly making the rounds, otherwise I wouldn’t have received it from a friend; a friend who doesn’t tend to believe in conspiracy theories, by the way, but thought it was at least worth listening to.

After all, who doesn’t want to believe that this virus is largely overblown and that we can resume our lives? 

When one extrapolates the data, this young doctor claimed, you’ll see the virus is no worse than the flu, killing only 0.1% of those infected. Even in New York, it’s mostly killing off older people. So let’s get back to the way things were, and not worry. 

Parts of what he says are of course true. Rates of death are the highest in the elderly. The 0.1% mortality rate is also probably closer to reality than the 2-3% mortality rate we see in some official numbers. That’s because (at least from what I’ve read in the last 48 hours) 25-50% of those infected may show no or few symptoms and are not getting tested. However, at this time, the death rate appears to be at least 0.6% – this is still six times the death rate of the flu. And since our population had no immunity, it makes this percentage all the worse. 

It’s still tempting to believe in a more optimistic evaluation, especially in regions that have not yet felt the full impact of the virus. Especially when it’s coming from an articulate doctor who speaks with such confidence... even if it's from a hospital basement.

We tend to read and view the things that comply with what we believe; in normal times, we can get away with thinking however we please. But there’s little wiggle room during a pandemic, particularly when you’re someone with a respiratory ailment. We all know people who are vulnerable; they could be put at risk if we deny expert opinion. 

As members of a freewheeling democratic society, this puts us in an odd predicament. Because, as has become evident over the last couple decades, we trust experts less and less. And when there’s a prominent world leader (not naming any names) who himself disdains expert opinion, it can lead to some interesting outcomes (don’t be injecting yourself with Lysol now). 

In Canada, we tend to still trust the experts, at least so far. And for the most part, political leaders and health experts have been on the same page. Epidemiologists are in the best position to explain how the virus will spread and how we can keep it to a manageable level until a vaccine is developed. 

But over time, we’ll have to rely on other experts, like economists, social scientists, business and other leaders. There won’t be a return to complete normalcy, but there has to be some resumption of normal life. If not, other problems will arise, perhaps far worse than the health impacts of the virus itself. 

Chronic unemployment, lack of social supports, and reduced healthcare services pose serious risks to human health over the long term. 

We can’t just re-open a few sectors, like golf and other solitary outdoor activities, while ignoring the broader economy. But how we achieve the optimal level of societal health in this abnormal time is something that will only come through much trial and error, and time. 

Something for the experts to figure out.